The Guilt Trip

The little-black-furry-house-demon is leading me on the biggest guilt trip. 

Bastard. 

I'm heading off to Adelaide for the day tomorrow morning. It's my niece's 21st birthday and there's a family lunch at a winery in the hills. This means leaving around 8.30 in the morning, hopping on a plane, picking up a hire car, going out and having lunch, then backing up, going back to the airport and hopping on the 6 pm plane back to Melbourne. I should be home around 9 pm all going well. 

It's a long day to go to another state for lunch, but this is what we do for families. 

Regardless, the little-black-furry-house-demon appears to have gotten wind of this, And it's not like I'm packing a suitcase or getting out the cat cage. This is a day trip. All I have to do is get up, shower, dress, put on some make up, grab a handbag in which there is a book, my headphones, a powerbank, a lipstick, wallet and phone and go. 

I also have to remember to grab my copy of the Qantas magazine for a colleague. They like to hand them on to their partner. 

Anyway, the little-furry-black-house-demon has been on my tail all day, demanding treats, asking for cuddles. Generally being a pain, albeit a cute pain in the backside. 

And we know it must be very dull being at home alone all day - and if things go awry and I'm going to be a lot later, I can call Jay or my downstairs neighbour and ask if they can feel the said little-black-furry-house-demon.

But he's giving me the guilt trip, which is his job, and I will acquiesce and keep dealing out the treats, even if I am in a meeting and he's sitting baying at me knee while inserting a claw into my calf. 

And I call this beast my child.

Cats. Who'd have 'em? 

Today's song: